Musings of an Ancient
by The Evil Author
Summary: One of Adam's friends is not what he appears to be.


Title: Musings of an Ancient  
Author: Nopporn Wongrassamee aka the Evil Author  
EMail Address: EvilAuthor@aol.com  
Archive: Anywhere and everywhere. Just tell me if you do.  
Spoilers: Anything goes  
Summary: One of Adam's friends is not what he appears to  
be.  
Disclaimer: Characters and concepts belong to their  
owners who I'm too lazy to list.  
  
  
Once, WE were the masters of the universe.  
  
We walked among countless worlds like gods. We played  
with life we both found and created. We brought life to  
lifeless planets. We took species - some sentient, some  
not - and spread them across our dominion. We altered  
them at our whim.  
  
Evidence of our existance still exists to this day. Here  
on Eternia alone, there are many examples. The most  
evident is Castle Greyskull, but there are others. The  
hybrids of human and other species for one. The artifacts  
guarded by the Faceless One also comes to mind.  
  
Our science and technology was so advanced that lesser  
peoples called it "magic". Fragmentary knowledge of this  
still exists on Eternia, too, as evidenced by the number  
of magicians living on this world.  
  
So, to paraphrase a poet of Earth, we strutted for a time  
across the stage of the universe before retiring from the  
limelight. Yes, I know I'm mixing my metaphors. But why  
did we relinquish the stage for other players? Why, if we  
were so powerful, did we depart? Why did we leave without  
so much as leaving a proper name to call us by?  
  
Some say we had evolved beyond such worldly concerns,  
that we had achieved a higher state of being. Nonsense.  
Evolution doesn't work that way. It's not a linear  
progression. A successful species will inevitably branch  
like a tree into a multitude of new species just as we  
did. That's part of why no one today knows what we really  
looked like or what called ourselves; we had become many  
in both name and appearance.  
  
Some say that we had discovered a threat so great, that  
the best thing we could do was hide from it. That's also  
nonsense. We're not Earthly ostriches (although I have a  
second cousin who bears a remarkable resemblance to one).  
If there were any such threat, running and hiding would  
be utterly pointless. It would have been better to stay  
and marshal our forces to fight.  
  
Some say we fought a great war among ourselves and wiped  
ourselves out. I point to the countless lifebearing  
worlds still extent. Had we fought any such war, they  
wouldn't still be there.  
  
No, the real reason we decided to vanish was very simple.  
  
We began to care.  
  
We looked upon all these worlds we had created and  
despaired. All the lesser species looked to us for  
guidance, unable to make a decision of any import without  
consulting us. So much so, that their own advancement was  
retarded. We wanted them to mature, to grow up and become  
very much our equals. But how could they? We occupied the  
niche we wanted them to enter. There was nowhere for them  
to grow into.  
  
So we left. We retreated to worlds that were wholly our  
own. These weren't just any worlds, mind you. They were  
worlds turned inside out and wrapped around stars to  
maximize living space. And because they so completely  
englobed their suns, our worlds were perfectly hidden  
without having to resort to exotic cloaking technologies.  
  
Of all the worlds we left behind, only one even concieved  
of the possibility, and that was a world that was  
practically untouched by us. That's proof enough that we  
were retarding the advancement ofthe lesser species.  
  
Oh, we didn't completely leave. We hung around to observe  
and watch. We disguised ourselves so that we could pass  
among the lesser species without exciting comment. Our  
disguises are so effective that even the artifacts we  
left behind could not recognize us and alert their new  
owners.  
  
It's a good thing that Adam didn't choose me as his  
companion. I doubt that I could have maintained the guise  
of a bumbling, offworld sorcerer if he had. The power of  
Greyskull focused on me would have exposed me for what I  
really was.  
  
"ORKO! What have you done?!"  
  
Ah, I believe Man-At-Arms has discovered my latest  
blunder. I wish I really wasn't a bumbling sorcerer, but  
some dumb local predator ate my focusing device. Without  
the wand to automate, I practically have to work the  
cosmic forces manually. That's unheard of back home.  
  
"ORKO!"  
  
I hope that critter died of indigestion. 


End file.
